Hermine Granger's Diary: The Edge of Reason
by Slut Queen Virgin King
Summary: Sick combination of Hermione Granger and Bridget Jones. Just an excuse for a brief bit of smut. Please R&R.


__

HERMIONE GRANGER'S DIARY:

THE EDGE OF REASON

Date: 6th September

Weight: 56 kilos Charms: 2(not enough) Hexes: 1(v.bad)

Another day, another textbook. I'm supposed to be thrilled. It's my birthday. Harry and Ron must've saved…oh….days to buy me this. _Arcane Arcania_. Okay, great book. Wanted it for years.

What's lacking from my life? Apart from perfume, lingerie, love, sex, chocolate body paint. But one can never have too many books. Book voucher from Mum and Dad. Card from the cousins. Big woolly jumper from Mrs Weasley. Why can't she knit me a man? What was that old quote? "My mother made me a homosexual. _If I give her the wool, will she make me one too?"_

Dinner at the Weasleys' tonight. Harry will be there. I suppose I could….for old times' sake. Ginny might have something to say about it. Ron? Just don't go there. Been there, done that, got the …..whatever it was that required four potions, one lotion, and a spell to clear it up.

Date: 7th September

Weight: 57 kilos (why, how, where did it come from?) Charms: 3(hope the Weasleys appreciate them) Hexes: 0(good) Alcohol units: millions

Stayed in bed all day. Can't move. Can't magic booze out of the body. Tried. Projectile vomit on Ron. Can't charm booze into something harmless. Spew on Harry. What I wouldn't give for a potion. If headache still here tomorrow, will possibly die. Have to go to Hogwarts to give lecture. It's written on my calendar. Why, why did I drink so much? Is it just me turning 30? Was it seeing Harry all over Ginny? Ron with his newest bird? All the Weasleys paired up. Me, and a bottle of wine. My life sucks like a vampire bat.

Date: 8th September.

Weight: 57.5 kilos(can grog weigh that much?) Charms: 0(why should I? No one deserves them) Hexes: 0(v. good, but tempted to dish out hundreds) Alcohol units: 1(hair of the dog)

Apparated to Hogsmeade. Headache the size of Hogwarts. Took in the fresh air as I walked to Hogwarts. Bird crapped on my hair. Fantastic.

Arrived early, went to see Dumbledore. Same old, same old. Fawkes burst into flames while I was there. Scared my breath might ignite. Kept mouth shut. Should not have had glass of wine to steady nerves. Dumbledore looked me over and suggested I see Snape for a potion, and something to clean my hair.

Snape in his dungeon. Do they keep him there so he won't bite visitors? He snarled at me, but handed over a purple potion. It tasted vile. Why didn't he tell me that was the one for my hair? Grew hair on tongue. Majorly pissed off. Snape looked pleased. Smiled. Handed me second potion.

"That's for your headache. Please don't try it on your hair, Miss Granger."

Couldn't drink it. Hairy tongue. Snape watched me gag.

"I need somefing for my tonguef," I said.

He sniggered. Headache bad at this point. Stomach doing loops. Got up from chair, went over, licked Snape all over face. Serve him right. Tasted nice. Salty, tangy, hint of spice. Swallowed hair ball. Spewed on robes.

Snape administered antidotes. Used wand to get rid of spew and smell. Still smirking.

"Is the hair all gone, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Yes." I admit it. I was sulky. It has been said I could sulk for Gryffindor, if not England.

Stuck out tongue. Snape looked. Picked one hair off. Fingers tasted spicy as well. He let them stay on my tongue for a second or two. Weird.

Went, did lecture. Macgonagall's sixth and seventh years. Hi ho. Three asleep that I counted. Why not all of them? They were bored, I was bored. Who cares about a career in Theoretical Magic? Why did I do it? Stupid idea. Hate my life.

I want what other women have. I want a baby.

Oh, not tbat old song again. Every few weeks, there it is, hanging over my head like a smelly nappy.

Will return to normal life tomorrow. Staying overnight at Hogwarts.

Midnight.

Laid awake. I'm usually a good in-bed-by-ten-girl. Why? Why am I so bloody good? Boring? Read new text book. Read Daily Prophet. Read diary. Kept thinking about babies. What do I want one for? Made huge list on parchment. Burned it. Made another list. Burned it. Had drink of wine. Must stop doing that. Stuffed pillow under night dress, stood in front of mirror.

Where to find donor? Don't want Muggle child. Difficult to explain witchly life during school orientation week. Wizard then. Who? Not Harry, Ron, or any Weasley. All taken anyway.

Checked diary. Fertile right now. 

Can't use student. Illegal. Binns dead. Flitwick married. Dumbledore - just no. Chiron - nice looking, but he's a centaur. Ouch! Snape - okay in a Heathcliff way, but he'd never do it.

Why use anyone? Use donor semen.

Potions laboratory. Must be some there. Used in sex magic spells.

Steal turkey baster from kitchens. Check label on potions vial. Make sure it's human.

Act now, before boring life sets in and I start wanting _Arcane Arcania vol II._

Date: 9th September 

Weight: 58 kilos(know where extra came from) Charms: 0 Hexes: 0 Alcohol units: don't need it.

Wow! Sleep now, write later.

2pm.

Getting the turkey baster wasn't hard. Elves happy to give me anything. Ended up with turkey baster, spatula, bag of muffins, egg whisk.

Crept down to dungeons. Memories of adventures with Ron and Harry. Fluffy, Chamber of Secrets, Singing Sword, Pansy Parkinson live porn night.

No one around, all asleep. Not a clumsy student any more. Snuck into laboratory without a noise. No luck. Of course, Snape would keep the stuff in his private stores. No problems, I know where they are, in his office. Opened office door. Conjured small witchlight. Vial was glowing, enspelled with preservative. Half a vial of cum. Plenty.

Sucked contents into baster. Looked at it. Now or never. Ate muffin first. 

Now or never. Lay down on Snape's desk. Inserted baster.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing?"

Snape, wearing boxer shorts. Black, what else? Must've heard me.

"That is not the way to take potions."

Har-bloody-har.

"What are you trying to do with…." Came forward, examined vial. "With my semen. Take that out immediately."

"Your semen?"

"Where do you suppose I get my supply from? I said, take that out!"

He grabbed turkey baster, slid it out. Felt conspicuous. Felt stupid. Felt like downright idiot. Sat up, blushed. All over. Good thing I only kindled weak witchlight.

He sighed. "I presume you are attempting insemination?"

Der. What did it look like? Cooking? Then again, I did have egg whisk and muffins with me.

"It won't work, Miss Granger. The semen is enspelled for potions use only. You would not have succeeded."  
I sat up, covered self as best I could, wearing only nightie. Started crying.

"Now I'll never have a baby!"

Snape folded arms. Turkey baster leaked on him. Wiped it off on boxer shorts. Own cum, so I don't suppose he cared.

"There are more….usual procedures, Miss Granger."

Didn't say anything. Didn't want to sound like lonely, desperate 30 year old woman.

"Perhaps one of your friends…..?"

Cried again, louder.

"The inestimable Mr Potter?"  
Actually howled.

Snape rolled eyes, came forward, patted me on shoulder.

"There, there, Miss Granger. I'm sure someone would be willing to…er…do the job."

Shook head. Leaned against him.

Said: "No one."

"Then you may have to remain childless, or adopt. There are always Muggle donors, I believe."

More crying. Snorked. Snape sighed, led me into his rooms, gave me drink of brandy. Two drinks. We ate the muffins. Another drink.

Tomorrow I'd be out of my fertile cycle. Next month I had to choose between a teaching position and further studies at Icziepole Academy in Norway. If I was pregnant by then, the choice would be easy. Teaching position at Hogwarts after Macgonagall's retirement. Nice environment to have a baby.

Snape leaned over from his chair to pour more brandy, and it was easy. Lifted legs, wrapped around his head, mashed his face into my pussy. Meow.

Funny burbling noise. Snape not able to breathe. Let go. Thought Snape would run, or at least wash face with antibiotic, cleansing potion.

Jumped me. Yes! Serious oral sex, tongues, licking, blowing raspberries, flicking, sucking. Forgotten how good it could be. Correction - never knew it could be this good.

Sixty-nine on floor. Tasted of spice all over. Must check out brand of soap.

Finally got down to business, still on floor. Good thing there was carpet. Rooted like bunnies. Slept for half hour, brought each other off. Slept again, at it again, this time on bed. Slept until 6.30am.

Snape had to go teach. Ha! Dragged back to room. Into bed, alone. Slept.

9pm

Attended evening meal at Hogwarts. Barely able to sit down. Kept shifting in seat. Macgonagall whispered: "Is there a problem, Miss Granger? Would you like a cushion?"

Watched Snape. He ate delicately. Jaw sore.

Caught his eye. He raised his glass of pumpkin juice to me. I raised mine.

Spent rest of meal talking with Dumbledore about possibility of replacing Macgonagall. Macgonagall saw me steal look at Snape. Guessed. Conjured me an extra soft cushion. Wonder how she knew I'd need one so squishy?

Snape caught me outside my room. Waved wand over guts. Tiny image of cluster of undifferentiated cells.

Pregnant.

Snape touched my stomach.

"What do you want to do?"

"Have the baby."

"And me?"

"Have you too." Touched his hair. I'm an expert in Charms. I could do something about his hair. "Many times."

Went to bed. Fucked like nifflers.

Date: 10th September

Weight: don't care Charms: 5(fixed Snape's hair) Hexes: 1(not good, must not succumb to dark side) Alcohol units: 0(can't now anyway)

Hooch conjured me soft pillow at breakfast in Great Hall. How did she know? Why do I think I'm last in a long line of women who need cushions?

Accepted Dumbledore's offer of teaching position when Macgonagall retires next month. No more dusty books . No more fighting over research funds.

Snape conjured me a set of baby bootees. Told him black wasn't suitable colour. He spiked my pumpkin juice at dinner. Hairy tongue again.

Didn't lick his face. Waited until later, licked something else. Swallowed hair ball. Projectile vomited all over him.

Serve him right.

Will owl Harry and Weasleys in morning about change in plans. It will give Mrs Weasley someone new to knit for. Not black, I hope.

**********


End file.
